


red string

by orphan_account



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: I hate myself, M/M, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-10 10:59:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12910521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Everyone is born with their soulmate's first words to them etched onto their wrists.





	red string

**Author's Note:**

> i havent seen a soulmate au for these dudes yet and im weak for soulmate aus, so. heres this.
> 
> also, despite the title, this isnt a red string of fate au, just a regular ol' soulmate au. sorry.

Newt had figured out trying to find his soulmate would be a lost cause by the time he turned 14.

His friends growing up all had tattoos on their wrists, some with long, complicated paragraphs, some with a single word, and some, for the lucky few, with a swear word. They were taught, from a young age, that these were your soulmate's first words to you. If someone said this phrase, or this sentence, or this word to you, and their tattoo matched your first words to them, you were soulmates. It was simple. Except it wasn't. 

On Newt's wrist were two short, simple words, in wobbly handwriting: _Yes. Hello_. 

By the time he had reached his teenage years, he had heard those words spoken to him countless times. By teachers, family, close friends - but their tattoos never matched with his words. The phrase was too short, too common, for him to ever be able to find his soulmate without dedicating his life to it. Some people did do that, but his interests were geared towards science. Plus, he never had the money to up and leave home to travel the world in search of just one person. 

For awhile, he kept his hopes up. Every time someone said the words _yes, hello_ , to him, he felt his heartbeat quicken in anticipation. After a while, however, the words held no value to him anymore. When he started his first tattoo sleeve, he had the short phrase hidden in the legs of a hideous monster. 

***

As soon as he learned how to read, Hermann knew he was destined to be a doctor. He, like everyone else, had a tattoo on his wrist, there from birth. His was short. It was only his name, and a title, and a punctuation mark: _Dr. Gottlieb?_ in cramped, slanted handwriting. He didn't really care, at first, that this was what his soulmate would say to him during their first meeting - his brain, instead, latched onto _Dr_. 

Eventually, though, the tattoo and all it represented did catch up to him. In college, he found himself dreaming towards his graduation day, when finally, _finally_ , the title will be used for him, and he would begin to have even a slight chance of finding his soulmate. Until then, he decided: ignore relationships altogether, and focus on work instead. So he did, and he graduated.

He heard the phrase countless times after that. When he began to teach, nearly every student he had would get his attention with those words. Soon, the meaning of it began to fall away from him, and he nearly forgot it all together. 

Around his third year of teaching, he receives a letter in the mail: from a fellow teacher, a Dr. Newton Geiszler. 

***

Newt, when he turns 27, is a victim of chronic loneliness. 

He moved away from home for his teaching job. He's dated a few girls, a few guys, but his missing piece - his soulmate - is still nowhere to be found. The words _yes, hello_ , have been said to him countless times, and still: nothing. 

He reaches a lull halfway through the second semester: nearly forgetting to grade his assignments until it's an hour until his next class, sleeping more than normal, avoiding staff and student parties alike. One of his colleagues armchair diagnoses him with the 'soulmate sickness': "If you reach this age and you haven't found your person yet, you tend to reach a dark place for a while," She says. "Don't worry, you'll find them soon enough." 

'Soon enough', he thinks, isn't soon enough. 

His letters to a Dr. Hermann Gottlieb tide him over through the rest of the school year. Hermann is smart, at least, if not more, than Newt is, with a dry sense of humor he hardly ever shows in his letters. They're nearly always typed, but, the next one isn't: 

_Dear Dr. Geiszler,_

_Apologies for this letter being handwritten. I'm afraid the University's power went out during a storm, and I am unable to print my notes at this time._

His handwriting is a little messy, a little wobbly. It looks like it's been written quickly, and something about it strikes a chord in Newt, somewhere inside him that he just can't seem to place. 

_Sorry I have to ask this in my terrible handwriting, but would you be interested in meeting face-to-face? It would be much easier to talk in person than over the course of years through letters, and I think we will get along quite well._

Newt blinks, readjusts his glasses on his face, and blinks again. As his eyes read the lines over and over again, a grin slowly creeps onto his face until he's beaming down at the letter on his desk, tapping his leg in excitement. 

_We can plan to meet sometime in the mid-summer, since neither of us will have to work. Send me a date, a time, and a place, and I'll do my best to be there._

_Sincerely,_

_Dr. Hermann Gottlieb_

Newt, still grinning from ear to ear, opens up his laptop and begins to write his reply. 

***

Newton is late. 

Hermann is standing outside a small cafe in San Francisco, in the rain, trying not to check his watch too often. He taps his cane on the ground nervously, looks up and down the street for the man he's supposed to be meeting. He tries to remember what he looks like - he's only seen one picture of him, on MIT's website, and all he can remember is a pair of glasses, messy brown hair, and a skinny black tie. 

After 5 minutes of standing in the rain, he sighs, and turns to go inside. Just as he begins to swing the door open, he hears a pair of feet splashing through the rain, and sees a hand reach for the door. He turns around, and there he is: Newton Geiszler, soaked completely, his hair sticking to his forehead. 

Newton squints up at him, smiles. "Dr. Gottlieb?" 

Hermann nods, sticks out his hand to shake. "Yes. Hello." 

***

The meeting with Hermann did not go well. 

 _It figures_ , Newt thinks to himself the following weekend. He's staying in a hotel in the city, and since he now has nothing to do and no one to talk to, he stays inside and sulks on his temporary bed. He goes over their conversation in his mind over and over again, replacing his regret over the things he said with anger at the other man, instead. He's always been good at that, deflecting his negative feelings outwards. No use obsessing over your own problems when there's work to be done. 

The letters stop after that. Hermann doesn't write, so neither does he. He projects his feelings of disappoint and - for some reason, loss - into his work, and his relationships. He doesn't bother to wonder about if they'll end up being his soulmate or not, anymore. He doesn't know why, but somehow, he feels like he's already missed his opportunity. 

The years pass by in a kind of blur, the days and the weeks and the months blending together. He starts to repeat lectures, reuse powerpoints, get bored with his work. One day, on his desk, he finds a letter. His heart skips a beat, until he reads the return address - Hong Kong.

He represses his slight disappoint and skims through the paper. As he reads, he gets more and more excited - a research team is offering him a position in their Hong Kong location, to study the biology of a newly discovered species. For the first time in a while, he gets genuinely excited. 

He accepts the job. 

***

Hermann is offered a job in Hong Kong, in a research division. He takes it, and starts at the end of the summer. 

Moving is surprisingly easy for him - he finds a small, cheap apartment a block away from his new office, packs up his few possessions, and flies over. The new apartment is just as small as he expected it to be, with only one bedroom, one bathroom, and a small kitchen and living room. It takes him less than a week to settle in. His new job doesn't start for a week, so he spends his down time reading up on everything the research team already knows about the new subject of his studies: a new species, discovered in the depths of the Pacific. His job will be to plan expeditions down to the ocean floor, so that others can collect samples and study them in their natural environments - simple enough, he hopes. 

Of course, there is a complication. 

He knew he'd have to share his office; he didn't know he'd be sharing it with Newton Geiszler. If he had known, he wouldn't have signed a five-year long contract. 

They start to argue almost immediately, mostly about nothing. They mock each other for little things - Newton's tattoos, Hermann's accent. Eventually, it dies down, and they just glare at each from across the room, and get to work.

It goes like that for the first year of them working together - they sit in silence, and then they argue, and then they go back to sitting in silence - repeat, repeat, repeat. Nearly every day for a year, they yell through the work day, and avoid each other whenever possible. It works, for the most part, depending on how you define 'works'. They completely, utterly hate each other. 

That's why, when Newton leaves for a mission to collect samples, Hermann hates himself for feeling like a part of him is missing. 

In total, he's gone for a week - and in that week, Hermann realizes just how dependent he's become on his co-worker's company, and how, despite how much they argue, and how much they hate each other, he doesn't want to spend more than a week apart from him. 

So, when Newton returns with the new samples for him to dissect, does Hermann try to apologize, become his friend?

_Hell. No._

***

When Newt gets back from his week at sea, he feels like he's coming home. It's a weird feeling to him - he _hates_ it in that lab, he hates Hermann - so why does he want to go back so badly? 

In the following months after his return, his and Hermann's relationship feels...different. He can't quite place why, at first, until halfway through the day, nearly 3 months after he got back, he realizes: they don't argue anymore. At least, not like they used to. The screaming turned into slightly raised voices, the insults made way for petty teasing. He doesn't understand it, so he pushes it to the back of his mind and tries to forget it. 

Of course, like most things that he tries to forget, it comes back to bite him in the ass. 

They're eating lunch together, as they had started to do a week or two ago, and Hermann is sitting across from him at their table, listening to him tell a story with a mouthful of mashed potatoes. As Newt gestures wildly, he catches sight of his colleague listening intently, a small smile on his face. He stutters over the next couple of words, coughs awkwardly, and continues his story. 

Later, back in his apartment, he replays the lunch in his mind, and something clicks. 

_Oh, shit. Oh fuck. Shit!_

_A crush_ , he grumbles as he brushes his teeth. _A goddamn crush on the literal worst person in the world! God, Newt, what are you, 13?_

As he falls asleep that night, he dismisses his initial, knee-jerk reaction of repressing it, and decides to let it happen. Just hide it. _It's a stupid fucking idea_ , he says to himself as he falls asleep. _But it's not like repressing it is gonna make it go away this time_. 

***

Somehow, Newton convinces Hermann to go to a New Year's party. 

It's an office-only celebration, since Chinese New Year won't be until February, and so many of their colleagues are from the states or Europe. Newton had told him it'd only be a handful of people, but when they get there, the office's biggest space is packed with what Hermann guesses to be 250 people at the least. 

"Hey, dude, it's 9 o'clock, but is it too early to start to get drunk?" Newton asks. He'd practically dragged Hermann over to the bar, and is already ordering himself a beer, voiding whatever Hermann was going to say. He shrugs, so Newton shrugs back, and takes the beer. 

Throughout the evening, the two mostly stick together. Tendo, Mako, and Raleigh all stop by the say hello, but are quickly swept back up into the festivities. Hermann wonders, absently, why Newton doesn't go with them - standing on the sidelines by himself doesn't seem like something he'd want to do. Regardless, he stays by Hermann's side the whole night, only leaving to go back to the bar for another drink. 

By the time the clock strikes midnight, Newton is already completely wasted, and almost asleep. Hermann, with a sigh, lets him throw an arm over his shoulder and walks him home. They live in the same building - unfortunate at first, lucky now - so he knows the route well. He helps him to his room, gets the door for him, and dumps him in to bed. When he comes back with a trash can in case of early-morning nausea, Newton is asleep. 

Or so he thinks. When he turns to leave, Newton grabs his wrist and pulls. "C'mere." 

"Newton, you're drunk." Hermann says. He pulls his wrist free. "I won't report you being late tomorrow morning, so don't worry."

Newton pouts, reaches up, and grabs his wrist again. "Please, Herms?"

 _Herms?_ The man in question sighs, and crouches down next to Newton's bed, stretching his leg out underneath. 

"No." Newton sighs. He chuckles weakly. "Come _here_." He jabs a finger down onto the small strip of empty mattress space next to him. 

Hermann laughs. Newton doesn't. It's then that he realizes he's completely serious, and stares down at him, his face beginning to turn pink. Newton pulls on his wrist again, so Hermann sits down on the edge of the bed and rests his cane against the nightstand. They sit like that for a minute or two, in total silence, before Newton pulls his friend down and wraps an arm around his shoulders. 

Newton falls asleep right after that; Hermann is not so lucky. He lays awake, straight as a board, and stares at the ceiling. 

Sometime in the early morning - if he had to guess, Hermann would say 2:30 am - Newton wakes back up, and pokes Hermann in the shoulder with his pinky. "Hermann," He says. "What does your tattoo say?"

Maybe it's because it's so late, maybe it's because he had a drink or two himself, but Hermann doesn't pause and says, "Dr. Gottlieb. With a question mark at the end." 

Newton hums. "Mine says 'yes, hello'." 

It takes a second for his tired brain to make the connection. He remembers, suddenly, their very first meeting, years ago in San Francisco - Newton had said 'Dr. Gottlieb?' to which he had replied, 'yes, hello'. Suddenly, it feels like the last piece he needed has been added to his puzzle. He stares down at his friend, who has already fallen asleep, in shocked silence.

Maybe they'll talk in the morning. 

***

Newt wanders in to work the next morning around noon, his head still pounding from the night before. Hermann is, of course, already there, sat at his desk. He's not working, though, so Newt walks up carefully, watching his lab partner carefully as he goes. 

"Newton, good morning." Hermann says. He looks up from his paper, where he had been absently doing simple equations. "I uh, I think we need to talk." 

Newt feels his face heat up. "Oh god, dude, whatever I did last night when I was drunk, I'm so, so sorry-"

"Don't." Hermann smiles. There's a tense pause between them. "Remind me, what does your wrist tattoo say?"

Newt's face drains of all color. "Did I tell you that last night?"

Hermann nods. "You said it says 'yes, hello'. Do you want to know what mine is?" 

Newt furrows his eyebrows together, confused, but nods all the same. 

Hermann rolls up his sleeve and exposes his wrist. He holds it up for Newt to see. 

"Do you remember," Hermann says, rolling his sleeve back down, "our first meeting?" When Newt says nothing, Hermann continues. "These tattoos - they match what we first said to each other." 

Suddenly, it clicks in Newt's mind. The crush, the teasing, the feeling like he was lost whenever they were apart - it all makes sense. Hermann, his annoying ass of a lab partner who he loves anyway, is his soulmate. Soon, he finds himself smiling, and then laughing, and then Hermann is joining him, and they smile together. Newt pulls him up from his chair and into a tight hug. 

They part, both of them still smiling. Newt steps forward again, and gestures at Hermann - as if to say, _may I?_ Hermann, somehow, understands, and nods, so he leans forward and kisses him. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i've been wanting to read a soulmate au for these two for awhile and i havent seen one so i wrote it my Got Damn Self.  
> anyway, thanks for reading !!


End file.
